


Journey Together Part One

by ReidFan



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 20:31:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13597809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReidFan/pseuds/ReidFan
Summary: The continuing story of Dr. Spencer Reid, working 100/30 with the BAU and teaching, and his deepening relationship with Grace. As their relationship progresses, so do the life issues that arise.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



Journey Together Part One  
A Criminal Minds fanfiction

Reid/OFC (Grace O’Halloran) rated M

Warning: may be a trigger for those sensitive to miscarriage

My eternal thanks to Droogie for the inspiration behind Grace; and to Aut for going above and beyond with betaing, bouncing ideas off, catching glaring mistakes—and little ones—and making all sorts of valuable contributions; and to Matthew Gray Gubler for being the embodiment of Spencer Reid, my very reason for writing.

All mistakes are my own.

Criminal Minds, the premise, the characters, the conference room, the jet, the coffee maker and all that belong to the Mark Gordon Company. No infringement intended, no monetary gain ever made.

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"Love has no desire but to fulfill itself. To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving." –Khalil Gibran

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An aroused moan escaped his lips as he burrowed his face into the side of his pillow and tried to force his mind to concentrate on what was happening. Her teeth gnawed at his left nipple, sending waves of pleasure through his brain. And elsewhere. Her fingertips traced a line of fire along his other nipple and he pressed himself down into the mattress in an effort to hold still. 

“Good?” she asked in a husky voice, stopping the proceedings for just an instant and stifling a laugh at his guttural, non-verbal response.

“Hrrmmph” was all Spencer was capable of and Grace’s attention swiftly returned to his chest. Her tongue drew a line from his Adam’s Apple down the center of his chest then ventured hard right to the nipple where once again her teeth took over.

“Oomph,” he managed to spit out, bringing his hands up from under the covers to wrap around her back and hold her close. 

Despite the heat of the moment, Spencer was suddenly cold and he shivered. As he did so, his mind made the connection and he opened his eyes and awakened fully. Pulling himself into a sitting position on the bed, he looked around in momentary confusion and then everything fell back into place.

“Dammit,” he said aloud, as he realised he’d been dreaming. He smiled in spite of himself, and thought, ‘At least it wasn’t a nightmare! This. This kind of interruption I could get used to’. 

Sighing, he leaned over to check the time on the alarm clock. Five thirty-seven a. m. he noted, squinting to see the digital LED readout. He pawed the nightstand, searching for his glasses and finally found them. The unfamiliar set-up of the hotel room was somewhat unsettling and everything took longer. At home, he had the layouts of both his own and Grace’s apartments committed to memory and could make the nocturnal trip to the bathroom in the dark. But here in Kansas City, Missouri, he’d already stubbed a toe on the chair by the hotel room table and bumped his shin on the corner of the bed trying to blindly make his way to the bathroom and he wasn’t about to flirt with injury again. 

The BAU had successfully profiled and aided in the capture of a deranged man who’d had the people of Kansas City fearing for their lives for nearly a month while he’d kidnapped and killed a series of victims. After the takedown late the previous night, the team had completed the necessary paperwork and debriefing and returned to their hotel rooms for the night. Their Unit Chief, Emily Prentiss asked the pilot to have their jet ready to take them back to Washington at eight o’clock the next morning.

Reid decided to shower and after doing so, dressed and made his way down to the hotel coffee shop for some breakfast. As he waited for his eggs and toast to arrive, he sipped his first coffee of the day and pulled his wallet, phone and keys from his jacket pocket.

A smile drew across his face as he fingered his keys. Two new keys had recently joined the ring bearing his own apartment, security and car keys along with the key to his locker at FBI headquarters and he couldn’t help but play with them. His smile beamed wider as he recalled part of the conversation surrounding their acquisition.

“I would like to propose a trade,” Grace had told him over dinner at her apartment a few nights ago.

He’d sipped his wine and indicated for her to continue.

“As you know,” she began. Rising from her seat next to him on the living room sofa, she made her way to the storage closet at the front of her apartment and entered it. She continued talking, but the sound was muffled and Reid couldn’t make out what she was saying. A moment later, she returned to the living room and he broke out laughing.

Grace was wearing his overcoat, her purse perched over one shoulder. 

He realised at that moment the coat had been missing for months but not once had he actually missed it. He stopped laughing long enough to take another sip of wine and gazed up at her expectantly.

She was watching him intently and finally, he prodded,

“A trade?”

“Ah, yes,” she smiled, digging into the pocket of the coat. “I would like to trade you for this coat,” she paused to run her free hand along the front of it.

His eyes narrowed and he tried to stifle the amusement in his voice, “What’s in it for me?”

She pulled her hand out of the coat’s pocket and held out two keys on a small ring.

His eyebrows rose. Grace sat down next to him, took his hand and dropped the keys into it. As he accepted the keys, she dug through her purse, found what she was looking for and added a pair of security cards to the keys in his hand.

“The apartment door. The front door,” she explained the keys, indicating each as she described them then repeated the procedure with the cards. “This one unlocks the front door of the building, this one opens the back entrance and accesses the elevators too.”

“Grace,” he breathed, scarcely believing the level of trust being bestowed upon him. He leaned over and kissed her, nuzzled her neck and told her, “You can keep the coat. And,” he pulled away enough to make eye contact.

“And the trade will be keys for keys, actually. I don’t have them with me, but I’m gonna give you a set of keys for my place, too.” She’d squeezed his hand as he spoke and asked,

“And the coat?”

“I said you could keep the coat.”

“Okay. So it’s keys for keys and coat for future considerations,” she recapped, laughing when his brow furrowed. “’Future considerations’ is sports trade speak. It means you’ll decide later what you want in exchange for what you’ve parted with.”

He laughed at that and told her he’d consider it. 

Reid was jolted back to the present when his breakfast arrived and Margie, the waitress, asked if he wanted more coffee. Nodding, she refilled his mug and dropped several more packets of sugar next to it. As he smiled his thanks, Jennifer Jareau arrived and motioned to the chair across from him, “May I join you?”

He nodded and she noticed he was playing with his keys. JJ quickly gave her breakfast order to the waitress. After filling JJ’s mug with coffee, Margie left. Reid’s iPhone sat on the table beside his breakfast plate and just as JJ was about to speak, the phone lit up, indicating he’d received a text.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked her. 

“Fine, knowing we made Kansas City a safer place last night,” she replied, then waved at the phone, “Aren’t you gonna answer that?”

“I will,” he acknowledged before taking a bite out of his toast. “JJ,” he began and then stopped abruptly.

“What is it, Spence?”

He sighed heavily before proceeding. “We said no secrets, after Mexico, right?”

She nodded, worried that something was very wrong and Spencer met her gaze and realised the seriousness of the expression on her face.

“Oh! It’s not bad. I just,” he paused and she watched intently as he considered his choice of words. “I guess I can start by saying I have a girlfriend now.”

JJ relaxed visibly and chuckled. “That’s no secret, Spence. Garcia’s been pretty discreet but she did mention that you and Grace have been together for a couple of months now.”

He pursed his lips and stifled a grin, “We’ve been together for five months and seventeen days but we’ve known each other since May 10.”

“I’m happy for you, Spence. If anyone deserves happiness after the year like the one you’ve had, it’s you.”

“Thanks, JJ. I’m just, wondering, like, how to broach the subject—“

She sat up excitedly, “Marriage?”

He blushed and managed to reply, “Well, eventually, hopefully, yeah. But,” he held out his keys to show her the new additions, “We traded apartment keys.”

JJ smiled knowingly.

“So, if I may ask,” he continued.

“Absolutely, Spence. What do you wanna know?”

“Is it,” he paused, “Would it be too forward for me to just go to her place while she’s at work? You know, to uh, set up a surprise?”

“Forward?” she repeated, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Spence, you love her, right? And she loves you?”

He nodded.

“I envy her. I would have loved to come home from work and find that Will had made some sort of effort to make dinner or whatever,” she paused to let the significance of that set in. “Spence, she will love it. She gave you those keys because she loves you. She trusts you. Right?”

He nodded, relieved. Margie returned with JJ’s breakfast and the two of them ate and chatted while they waited for the rest of the team members to arrive.

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	2. Chapter 2

Grace and Maureen were almost finished their morning rounds, overseeing their patients’ breakfasts and making sure everyone had taken their a. m. medications. As they approached the last patient room, Maureen steeled herself and in a low voice said to Grace,

 

“I hope Albert’s better today. The last two mornings have been brutal.”

 

Grace sympathised, “His dementia’s really taken hold hasn’t it?”

 

“Poor guy. Couple months ago he couldn’t get enough of teasing you about your Dr. Reid. And now he doesn’t recognise us as his nurses sometimes. He even called LaMarr ‘Stewart’, thinking that LaMarr was his son.”

 

Grace shook her head sadly. It worried her that Diana Reid would someday be in the same predicament. Spencer’s mother did have her bad days; she had on several occasions not recognised Iris or Maureen as her nurses and she’d stared blankly at Grace and at her own son, not knowing who they were. But most days, Grace thought thankfully, Diana was quite sharp and her intelligence was quite evident. Her eyes met Maureen’s and they pasted smiles on their faces and opened Albert’s door.

 

“Good morning Albert! How are you today?” Maureen asked as she approached his bed. He glared at her for a moment and then burst out laughing.

 

“Oh, I’m just fine! For someone you had to wake up at this ungodly hour!” he said in a teasing voice, but with an undertone of seriousness.

 

Maureen clucked her tongue and scolded him gently, “Well if you’d go to bed before 11 like everyone else does, Albert, we wouldn’t have to wake you up at the—“ she paused to check the clock and pointed out the time before finishing in a purposely overly dramatic fashion, “ _ungodly_ hour of ten a. m.” She turned to Grace and said, “Maybe we should let him sleep until noon. Then we won’t even have to give him breakfast, he can lose a meal every day and just start with lunch. What do you think?” She turned her head so Albert couldn’t see and winked at Grace.

 

Grace laughed and answered, “Well, Admin was looking to cut the budgetary spending—“

 

“Now wait just a minute, girls” Albert sputtered and hurried to climb out of bed. Instantly, Maureen and Grace moved to help him and all three of them laughed. He managed to dress himself with very little help. His fine motor skills had deteriorated and small things like buttons on a shirt, or tying his shoelaces were beyond his capability anymore. The last two times Albert had shaven, he’d managed to cut himself and Maureen was no longer going to allow him to carry out this task himself. He’d accepted this measure reluctantly but understood the reasoning and he and Maureen made a game of it now. Maureen would pretend to operate a barbershop and treat Albert like a paying customer. He even called her Paul, which, after some careful questioning, Maureen determined was the name of the barber Albert had patronised for years as a young man. 

 

Grace was impressed as she watched the two of them interact. Maureen was such an empathetic nurse. Fifteen minutes later, Albert was ready to face the world at Hetherington’s. He chattered obliviously as Maureen tied his shoes and then he rose from his seat and gestured towards the door. 

 

“I’m ready to go charm all the ladies,” he announced.

 

“Yes, you are, Albert,” Maureen agreed and waved him off.

 

Laughing, Maureen pirouetted to meet Grace’s eyes. 

 

“And I suppose we can finally go for our lunch break,” she told Grace.

 

Normally, Grace would frequent one of the little restaurants close by Hetherington’s for her lunch break. Since Maureen had the same shift, she decided to stay and eat with her friend in the small cafeteria on site. She enjoyed the fresh air and exercise afforded by the trips out, but today, Grace was tired and feeling a little out of sorts. They chose soup and sandwiches and made their way to a small table. Half an hour later, Maureen rose and explained that she wanted to get started on the afternoon rounds. Grace was scheduled to look after the residents in the games room that afternoon so they parted ways. Maureen hurried away. Grace took her iPhone out of her pocket and caught up on her text messages.

 

She was a little disappointed to find that Spencer hadn’t replied to the text she’d sent him earlier. It was entirely possible he hadn’t even seen it yet, she conceded as she swiped through the other messages. There were four from Penelope and Grace smiled as she opened the first one and found a video of a baby elephant taking its first steps under the careful watch of its mother. The second and third messages were also of cute animals: a penguin sliding along the ice and a puppy captioned ‘Newbie’s friend’s doggy Lou!’

 

Grace shook her head. _Poor Alvez_ , she thought. _Over a year on team already and still being called newbie. Garcia’s just overcompensating and oh—_ She rose from her chair and hurried to the bathroom and managed to make it to a cubicle in time to throw up her lunch.

 

A few minutes later, feeling better, she soaked some paper towels and wet her face. Patting it dry with some more paper towels, she scolded her image in the mirror. “That’s like, the third time in your life you’ve had tomato soup. And all three times, it’s disagreed with you in this manner. Think there might be something to that?! _No_ more second chances!”

 

Resolving never to consume tomato soup again, Grace rummaged through her purse for cosmetics and reapplied lipstick and powder. Shoving the makeup back into her purse, she took the iPhone out and thumbed it back to life to read the last message from Garcia.

 

_Heads up. Case concluded. BoyWonder & team s/b back 2nite._

 

Tomato soup and vomiting forgotten, a smile lit up Grace’s face and she quickly sent Garcia a thank you text and resumed her workday. Feeling out of sorts was instantly forgotten, knowing that Spencer would be home tonight and they’d be together for the first time in almost four days. She fairly glowed with happy anticipation at the prospect of holding her love in her arms as they slept that night. Instead of dreading the rest of the day at work and what would have been the lonely night at home, Grace happily made her way down to the patients’ game room to oversee the afternoon’s Scrabble matches.

 

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Instead of getting off at his usual subway stop by his apartment, Spencer rode further until he reached his first destination and debarked the train at the downtown _Gallery Place_ mall. He had a number of errands to run, and quickly made his purchases at several different shops in the mall before returning to the station and taking another train to his next intended destination.

 

As he made his way through the _Lush_ store, he paused to peruse the array of soaps and bathing cosmetics, carefully reading the ingredients and inhaling the various scents until he found the one he wanted. _Milky Bath_ he committed to memory and picked out several of them. Taking his selection to the cashier, he quickly paid for them and made his way to his next stop.

 

An hour later, heavily laden down with packages, Spencer arrived at Grace’s apartment building and used the access key card she’d given him for the first time. The door opened easily and he made his way to the elevator. 

 

Despite the fact that they’d been a couple for several months now, Spencer felt just the slightest bit nervous about letting himself into her apartment unannounced. Closing her door behind him, he made his way into the kitchen and set the packages down on the counter before returning to the front hall and removing his shoes and new overcoat. He laughed as he hung the coat up in the closet, right next to the one it was replacing. Nervousness left him and he settled in with a new resolve.

 

Grace’s text message had indicated she’d worked four consecutive twelve-hour days. And that she missed him. _I can relate to that,_ he thought with a smile. He missed her too. According to her text, she’d gone in for seven o’clock this morning and would be finished work at seven that evening. He looked at the clock in the kitchen as he put away some of the groceries he’d picked up. It was just after four p.m. He had about three hours, he figured, to get his plans all in order.

 

Spencer took the _Lush_ bag to the bathroom and realised he’d forgotten something. 

 

“Dammit!” he exclaimed as he hurried back to the kitchen and made sure everything that needed refrigeration was put away before he grabbed the apartment keys and his wallet and rushed out. Fifteen minutes later, he returned to Grace’s apartment with an armful of flowers. He set those down on the coffee table in the living room and hurried back into the kitchen to get to work.

 

Just after six p.m. he put his finished dessert tray in the refrigerator and set to work on another course. Relatively unfamiliar with anything more than just basic cooking, Reid’s progress was slow and cumbersome, but eventually he managed to secure a dozen slices of bacon around a dozen scallops and laid those out on an oiled cookie sheet. He took a bakery box from the refrigerator and removed the tiny spinach quiches from within, laying them out on another cookie sheet. 

 

After a quick investigation of several kitchen cupboards, Spencer found a suitable dish and set about arranging the raw vegetables he’d cleaned and cut. He spooned ranch dip into a tiny glass bowl and placed that in the centre of the larger dish then set that back in the refrigerator. 

 

The flowers he’d put down on the coffee table earlier caught his eye and he realised he was working against the clock now. Hastily, he scooped up the flowers and put that part of his plan in motion. It was almost seven p.m. when he realised _he_ wasn’t ready and he hurried into the bathroom to shower and shave.

 

He ran naked into the kitchen to make sure he’d prepared everything and stopped short at the entrance. The room was an unmitigated disaster. There were dirty dishes and pots and pans everywhere. Every centimetre of counter space was covered with something: dishes, vegetable peels, packaging from the various food items. 

 

“Oh no,” he realised there was no way he’d have time to clean this mess up before Grace got home. He had to hope she’d have no reason to go into the kitchen and a thought occurred to him. 

 

He raced back into the bathroom, picked up all his clothes that he’d just dropped on the floor in his hurry to shower and brought them back into the front hallway. Piling them neatly on the floor right next to the door, he hoped she’d get the hint. As he surveyed the floor, he was pretty sure she’d get the other message he’d left and he made his way back into the bathroom to finish preparing.

 

The wall clock said seven-ten p.m.  

 

At seven twenty-one p.m. the apartment door opened and Grace entered. She stepped over the pile of Spencer’s clothes on the floor, smiled at the implication and then gasped.

 

Strewn all over the floor in front of her were hundreds of rose petals. She peered around the corner into the living room and noticed that the trail of flowers led down the small hall towards the bedroom, the way lit by a line of small scented votives. Faint music sounded from the direction of the bathroom.

 

Grace’s heart melted as she walked carefully towards the music. All the unsettled, out of sorts feelings from earlier in the day dissipated as she stepped through the door into the bathroom and found Spencer waiting for her. He reached for her, taking her in his arms and they kissed tenderly for a long moment. She shivered as he ran his hands down her back and she snuggled closer and wound hers through his hair.

 

When they disengaged a few minutes later, Grace took a moment to look around and fully appreciate the lengths to which Spencer had gone. More candles than she could count were lit and placed all around the bathroom—the vanity, the edges of the tub and along the floor leading out and back to the bedroom. Red and white rose petals were everywhere and as she inhaled, she realised the bathtub was full of delicately scented white bubbles. _Milky Bath_ she recognised her favourite _Lush_ bath and turned to acknowledge his efforts. He was freshly showered and shaved, she noted, and wearing full-length fluffy white terrycloth robe. 

 

“You’ve had four consecutive long rough days,” he said, as he reached for her, and began unbuttoning her sweater. “You are going to relax, soak in the tub,” he directed, drawing the garment off her shoulders and hooking it over the doorknob before turning his attention to her scrubs. She tried to play with the part of his chest that peeked out from between the lapels of his bathrobe, but he thwarted her attempts and she abandoned that plan and instead helped him facilitate her own disrobing. After she stepped out of her scrub pants and underwear, he steadied her with one hand as she stepped into the tubful of bubbles and sat down. 

 

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, as he took all her work clothes and disappeared, closing the bathroom door behind him. Grace looked up and saw an identical bathrobe to the one Spencer was wearing hanging on one of the two hooks on the back of the door. She dipped her hands into the bathwater and brought up an enormous pile of the suds. A thought crossed her mind and she smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she did so. 

 

The bathroom door opened and Spencer reappeared, bearing a wine glass in one hand and a bottle in the other. Before he could say anything, Grace held up her hands and blew on the suds. In an instant, Spencer was covered in bubbles, and Grace was laughing heartily.

 

Chuckling, Spencer knelt beside the tub and handed Grace the wine glass. She held it in place as he opened the bottle and noticed that he’d forgone the usual red wine she drank and favoured her with bubbly _Henkell Trocken_. The cork popped and sailed through the air, eventually landing in the bathwater causing Grace to break into a fresh bout of laughter. Spencer was wiping bath bubbles off his head and shoulders and flicked a few of the suds back at Grace.

 

“Good, you’re relaxing,” Spencer observed as he poured the bubbly champagne into her glass and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m going to leave you here for a couple of minutes. I have dinner cooking—“ he started.

 

“Oh my goodness, Spence. You _made_ dinner?” Grace was pleasantly surprised. While he was by no means helpless in the kitchen, Grace hadn’t witnessed him do much more than scramble eggs and make toast in the months they’d known each other. They’d done some baking together— _she smiled at that recollection_ —but she’d never seen him put together an entire meal on his own. Although, she reasoned, logic dictated that he must have at least some experience cooking, given he’d been responsible for himself and his ill mother most of his life.

 

He grimaced and confessed, “Mostly I’m just heating up already made components.” 

 

He set the bottle down on the vanity and told her he’d be back with their dinner in a few minutes. Grace leaned against the back of the tub and allowed herself to fully relax in the fragrant bath bubbles. She heard the clattering of dishes from the kitchen as she sipped her champagne in the tranquility of her bath. She took several deep breaths and sighed, letting the stress and tension of the day slide away. 

 

“Dammit!” sounded from the kitchen, shattering her peace. The silence following his outburst worried her. 

 

“Spence?” she called. She set the glass down on the edge of the tub and stood up. “Oh no,” she muttered, not liking this sound of silence. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

She heard his footsteps coming closer and he knocked on the bathroom door.

 

“Spence?”

 

“I need the first aid kit,” he whispered through the closed door.

 

“Oh my god. Well get in here!” Grace exclaimed, alarmed. She hurried out of the tub and pulled the kit from the bottom drawer of the vanity as he opened the door and entered.

 

“What happened?” she asked as she surveyed his right hand and saw the cut on the side of his palm. After splashing hydrogen peroxide on it  (“ _This is gonna sting a bit.” “OUCH!”)_ Grace determined that fortunately, the cut wasn’t deep enough to require stitches and she patted it dry with a tissue, applied some _Neosporin_ and put a _Band Aid_ on it.

 

“I broke a dish. I’m sorry.”

 

“Oh, I don’t care about any stupid dish. As long as you’re not seriously hurt.” 

 

He put on the saddest puppy dog eyes he was capable of and caught her gaze. “It _hurts_. So much,” he emphasised as sadly as he could muster. “When I was little, my mom used to kiss my little hurts.”

 

Grace took his hand in hers and brought it up to her lips, kissing the bandage very gently. “Poor boo-boo,” she said with a straight face. She kissed it again, then turned her face up towards his and captured his lips in a kiss. He responded in kind, an aroused moan sounded from his throat as her tongue slipped between his lips and explored his mouth. She slid her hands under the lapels of his bathrobe, intending to slide it off his shoulders. As difficult as it was for him, he brought his hands up to stop her progress.

 

“Not now,” he whispered into her hair regretfully, “ _Later_. I’ve gotta finish dinner.”

 

“You want some help?” she asked.

 

Boldly, he ran one hand down her side and grasped at her bottom, giving it a light squeeze. Shaking his head _no,_ he told her, “Get back in that bath, dinner’s almost ready.”

 

He held her hand as she climbed back into the tub and sat down. Spencer topped up her champagne flute and handed it to her, then turned the hot water on to heat up her bath a little. Kissing her softly, he told her, “I’ll be back in a couple minutes.” Extending his right hand to her for a moment, he added, “Thanks for looking after this.”

 

For several long minutes, Grace luxuriated in her bath, taking in the gentle scent and the soft bubbles and let her mind clear. Once again she heard the clattering of dishes in the kitchen and the oven and refrigerator doors repeatedly opening and closing. Finally, there was a slight rap on the bathroom door again and a whispered, “Dinner’s ready.”

 

“Bring it on,” Grace invited.

 

Spencer set a tray down on the vanity, pulled Grace’s makeup stool closer to the bathtub and then left. Grace sniffed appreciatively; whatever was on that tray sure smelled inviting! Spencer returned a moment later with another tray and set that down on the stool. He sat down on the edge of the tub, checked Grace’s flute (still full) and then filled another one for himself. 

 

Carefully he picked up one of the small offerings on the tray and motioned to feed it to Grace, explaining, “Bacon wrapped scallop.”

 

She opened her mouth and took it carefully from his fingers. “Mmmmm,” she said earnestly. After swallowing it, she elaborated, “Wow, that was delish!”

 

“I’ve got ricotta and pesto crostini and mini spinach quiche here too,” picking up one of the crostini; he offered it to her as well. Grace leaned forward and gently took it from his hand. 

 

“So good,” she enthused. She picked up a crostini and fed it to Spencer in the same manner. He declined the scallop she offered, so Grace popped it into her own mouth and quickly picked up a tiny quiche to feed to him. “I forgot. You don’t really like scallops, do you.”

 

“Can’t stand them. But I know you love them.”

 

“You know what I’d really like, Spence?” she spoke in a husky tone. Reaching for the lapels of his bathrobe once again, she pushed it off his shoulders and undid the belt to free him from it altogether. Not waiting for him to answer, she continued, “I want you to get in here with me.”

 

He stepped out of the robe and stood naked before her, and laughed lightly, “Not sure there’s room for both of us in that tub, as big as it is.” Looking around, he took the tray he’d left on the vanity and set it on the corner of the tub’s edge, where there was the largest flat surface available. After topping up their champagne glasses, he set the now empty bottle down on the floor next to the tub and realised he had one more platter to serve.

 

“I’ll be right back!” he told her and he hurried out to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a kitchen chair and his dessert platter. He positioned the chair right beside the tub and set the dessert platter on top of it. 

 

“All right then. Now,” he extended his hand to her and she stood up. He stepped into the tub and sat down, then pulled her down, facing him, in a sitting position atop him. As their bodies met, Grace debated whether she’d even want any more dinner. More Spencer was far more desirous. Their lips met again; a long, stirring kiss that sent them both soaring. His hands traced lines up and down her back and reactively, Grace pressed herself against his chest, finally breaking off the kiss and dropping her head down to move her lips along his jaw and throat. 

 

His breath came in short gasps as the level of arousal heightened and his hands grasped her rear end firmly, clutching her closely against him. “Good god, Grace,” he finally managed to blurt out. 

 

He let her caress his jaw for a few minutes before desire got the better of him and he brought his hands up to cup her face and resumed kissing her. A few breathless moments later, the need for air interrupted them and Grace leaned back to make eye contact.

 

She reached for her champagne glass, took a sip then offered it to Spencer. He picked up another of the bacon wrapped scallops and fed it to her. Grace fed Spencer a crostini. This went back and forth for several minutes, alternating with sips of champagne from the single glass. Once they’d emptied her glass, she swapped it out for the one from which Spencer had earlier been drinking. They ate the crostini and the quiches as well as a good amount of the raw vegetables, although neither of them opted to use the provided garlic-laden Ranch dip. Setting the empty crostini tray down on the chair, he stacked the dessert tray on top of it and plucked a chocolate covered strawberry from it.

 

Leaning towards her, Spencer teased her lips with the berry. Her tongue darted out and licked it suggestively. Seeing this, Spencer involuntarily bit his own tongue. Grace stifled a giggle and, making a small o with her lips, sucked the strawberry out of his fingers. 

 

Spencer inhaled sharply and let out a primal moan. “What you do to me!” he managed to growl, tracing the outline of her mouth with a finger. He leaned in and planted a series of tiny kisses all along the edge of her mouth, and told her, “I could just take you right here, right now.”

 

“Then, let’s,” she replied, sliding her hands down his chest and further south into the bubbles.

 

“Oh my god,” he breathed.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The need to go to the bathroom woke Grace up just after two a.m. and she was surprised to find herself alone in the bed. She pulled on her new bathrobe, opened the bedroom door and heard movement coming from the kitchen. After finishing in the bathroom, she padded quietly along the rose petal covered floor towards the kitchen and stopped at the doorway. 

 

She’d never before seen such an incredible sight. The kitchen was a mess, an unprecedented state of chaos. Spencer, clad in the bathrobe that matched the one she wore, was busy cleaning. He didn’t hear her, she figured, as she surveyed the wreckage and wondered if her countertops would ever again be their original sparkling white. She stood in silence for several minutes watching as he cleared up food scraps and packaging from countertops. There was chocolate _everywhere._ Grace couldn’t begin to imagine how he’d managed to get chocolate on every available surface. The stove, the refrigerator, the countertops, the cupboard doors all bore drips, smudges or chocolate fingerprints. She wondered if there was anywhere in the kitchen that hadn’t been anointed with chocolate. As her gaze swept across the stove, she noticed her best copper bottom pan sitting on top with a spoon still perched inside. She covered her mouth hoping to stifle the gasp of dismay at the thought of her pot being ruined.

 

Spencer filled the sink with soapy water and started doing the dishes, using just his left hand. Grace, remembering the cut on his hand, stepped forward and slid her arms around his waist.

 

“Let me help you with that. You shouldn’t be getting that hand wet and, well, it just looks awkward trying to do those dishes with just one hand.” 

 

“Grace!” She’d startled him and he turned around to face her, dropping the dish into the water. Sighing, he answered her, “No, I made this absolute mess of your kitchen. The least I could do is clean it up.” 

 

“Spence,” she protested, “You worked really hard making such a lovely evening for us. Dinner was fantastic and after dinner was, well, the best ever!”

 

“It was, wasn’t it?” he agreed, wiped his wet hand on his robe-covered leg and then splayed his hands across her back and drew her close. “We make a great team.”

 

“We do,” her reply was muffled as her face was burrowed into his chest and buffeted by the fluffy bathrobe. He stroked her hair and she tilted her head up to kiss him. Grace’s hands slid down to his waist, undoing the belt and making his bathrobe fall to the floor. He stood still before her as she leaned towards the stove. His eyes followed the movement of her hands and his eyebrows rose in surprise as she dipped her fingers into the pot containing the rest of the melted chocolate. 

 

It was no longer warm, but still in a thick liquid form and she brought forward a chocolate covered finger and drew a heart on his chest. He smiled indulgently down at her and then a split second later gasped as her tongue darted out from between her lips to lick the chocolate from his chest.

 

“Mmmmm,” she murmured as she started again, slowly drawing the outline of the heart and this time, repeatedly dipping her fingers into the pan to fill in the heart with the chocolate. Once completed, she lifted her gaze to meet his and smiled evilly as she leaned forward and flicked her tongue along her artwork once more.

 

Spencer’s knees threatened to buckle and he tightened his hold on her waist as he moaned in response to her actions. Although he kept them short, his fingernails dug into her upper arms as his arousal grew. He took a long deep breath and tried to let it out slowly but wound up gasping again as Grace’s tongue lapped against his nipple.

 

“I’m not gonna be ab—“ he started to growl and she paused mid-lick for a moment to make eye contact. His words died on his lips as she reached up to kiss him. Thoroughly provoked, he stooped to pick her up and carried her back into the bedroom.

 

He laid her down gently on the bed, and then deftly undid and slipped off her robe. “Clean up’s gonna hafta wait until later,” he told her, “”because right now,” he left the rest of his thought in the air as he bent down to lavish her breast with kisses. She writhed in delight as his fingers delved lower and readied her before he lowered himself into position. For the fourth time in as many hours, Spencer and Grace made love, and then, after proclaiming their mutual love, collapsed in each other’s arms. 

 

Spencer fell asleep almost instantly. Grace lay awake next to him long enough to hear his breathing fall into the rhythm that told her he was soundly asleep and then she rolled over and propped herself up on one arm to watch him sleep. The curtains hadn’t been completely drawn and the moon was now shining through the opening like a bright ribbon casting a gentle stream of light on her sleeping lover. She eyed him for a while: hair splayed out all around his head, chest rising and falling steadily, and a look of peace on his face. A smile drew across Grace’s face when she noticed his skin was sparkling in places. She bent down to touch a spot on his hip and realised that sections of his skin were randomly covered in glitter. 

 

“The _Milky Bath,”_ she realised and stifled a giggle. It occurred to her, as much as she loved the _Milky Bath,_ the glitter could be stubborn and tended to stick around way long than was desired. _Spencer could be glittering for weeks,_ she thought with a smile. As she affectionately stroked the spot on his hip, he stirred and moaned in his sleep and then was immediately still again.

 

Grace bent down and gently kissed the spot on his hip. Sliding out of the bed, she picked her robe up off the floor, and after pulling it on and tying it, made her way out to the kitchen to finish the cleanup Spencer had started. It took her just under an hour to finish the dishes, restore her favourite copper-bottomed pot to new, find the gleaming white countertops under the chocolate and finally, sweep the floor of the debris that had fallen. She returned to the bedroom, slipped the robe off and climbed back into the bed, curling up against Spencer and resting her head and one hand on his chest. Still fast asleep, he moved to accommodate her and slipped one arm down onto her shoulder. For several moments, Grace caressed a sparkly spot on his arm before exhaustion finally overtook her and she fell asleep.

 

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	5. Chapter 5

“I’m glad I could help, Rossi,” Reid told his colleague before slipping his phone back in his pocket and continued walking down the corridor towards the auditorium where his students were awaiting his arrival. He let his mind wander briefly to the previous night and quickly brushed those thoughts aside, slightly alarmed at the reaction they were causing. He wiped his palms on his trousers and willed his heartbeat to settle back down. Arriving at the auditorium door, he took a deep breath and opened it.

 

The students immediately hushed all conversations and gave Reid their full attention. He set down the books he was carrying on the lectern at the front of the room and shrugged his messenger bag off, letting it fall to the chair behind him. He adjusted the height of the microphone then addressed the class.

 

“Good morning everyone.” 

 

Inwardly, he smiled at how easily this was coming to him now. The first few seminars over which he’d presided, he’d had some trepidation: the old feelings of awkwardness, self-consciousness and self-doubt had arisen. But experience, and reassurance from several fronts had assuaged the anxiety and Reid emerged stronger, more confident. Silently, he sent out a thank you to Emily for suggesting he do these lectures, and to Grace for all the moral support and love she’d shown him the last few months. He took a deep breath, looked up from the lectern and addressed his class.

 

“Today we’re going to talk about the application of math in the course of an investigation.” He stopped and smiled; pleasantly surprised that this hadn’t been met by a chorus of groans. “And I promise you, it’s way more interesting than it sounds.”

 

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“I don’t want to go!” Albert shouted at Maureen, intent on bullying his way past her. She was holding onto his arm and attempting to direct him to the waiting wheelchair. Albert had an appointment with a neurologist at the nearby hospital and Maureen was supposed to accompany him, and a family member, to the appointment.

 

Grace was in the hallway and heard the commotion. Immediately, she raced into Albert’s room, just in time to witness Albert give Maureen a tremendous shove. Maureen crumpled as she hit the wall behind them and the momentum caused Albert to fall, striking his head on the floor.

 

After sounding the alarm, Grace hurriedly turned to Maureen and Albert. Crying in pain, Maureen choked out, “I think my wrist might be broken. But Albert! Albert’s unconscious.” 

 

Grace’s attention trained on Albert. He was unconscious, but didn’t appear to be bleeding and was breathing normally, Grace noted with muted relief.

 

Sandy, the nurses’ supervisor arrived at the scene and agreed with Grace’s assessment that both Maureen and Albert needed to go to the hospital. They helped Maureen up and the injured nurse sat in the wheelchair while Grace and Sandy attended to Albert. Minutes later, the ambulance attendants appeared and after determining it was safe to move Albert, they loaded him on their gurney and took him away to the hospital. 

 

“I’ll take Maureen to the hospital,” Sandy told Grace.

 

“I’ll take over Maureen’s rounds,” Grace replied. “I just need to text Spencer to let him know I’m working late.”

 

“Oh Grace, thank you. See if they can call LaMarr in early tonight so you don’t have to stay _too_ late. He was just asking about getting some overtime yesterday.” She reached out and patted Grace’s arm in a gesture of appreciation, then wheeled Maureen out the door.

 

Grace spent the next ninety minutes ensuring medications were dispensed on time, overseeing afternoon tea in the dining room, playing checkers with Albert’s friend Rhonda and setting about helping the kitchen staff deliver meals at dinnertime. Shortly after five p.m. LaMarr arrived, immediately taking over meal delivery and telling Grace to go home, only an hour past her scheduled time.

 

She retrieved her purse and jacket from her locker and drove home. With Spencer currently on another of his thirty days of mandated out of the field time, she’d fallen into the routine of preparing their dinner knowing he’d be home around the same time every night. It was a welcome change from the random schedule he’d had when he was with his team.  Sipping from her sparkling water, she finished setting the table for dinner and cleaned up the preparation dishes sitting in the kitchen sink. She refilled her glass and curled up in her recliner in the living room. As she waited for the ziti to bake and for Spencer to arrive home, her iPhone rang and Grace plucked it from its charger to answer it.

 

“I was right. Wrist is busted,” Maureen told her.

 

“Damn it. Are you in a lot of pain, Mo?”

 

“It’s manageable. Doctor wants me off for at least a week. Sandy said I should take off as long as I need.”

 

“If you need any help with anything, Maureen—“ Grace began.

 

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be climbing the walls at home after a week, Grace. I hope to be back to work ASAP.”

 

“Did you hear anything about Albert, Mo?”

 

“He’s gonna be okay. Slight concussion. I’m actually more concerned about the Alzheimer’s, Grace. I’m afraid he may need to go to the full care section after today’s episode.”

 

“Oh no,” Grace commiserated. Albert was one of their favourite patients. When he was having a good day, the man was a delight, charming and cooperative and friendly with most everyone at Hetherington’s. It broke Grace’s heart to think his condition had deteriorated to the point where he would need full time supervision. His family would be devastated to hear about this turn for the worse.

 

 

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“Dr. Reid?” the young blond student tugged at her hair, twirling it in her hand as she tried to get Spencer Reid’s attention.  He was slipping folders back into his messenger bag and turned when he heard his name.

 

“Miss?” 

 

“Gabrielle Ortiz,” she introduced herself, “I’m studying criminology at the university. Our whole class has been attending your seminars, Dr. Reid and they’re _so_ interesting. Like today, you made math so much _fun_.” She blushed and batted her eyes at him and for an instant Spencer wished Derek Morgan could see this moment. The girl was clearly flirting with him. He chewed his lower lip and wondered how to discourage her without being rude or mean.

 

She was staring at him, he noted, but didn’t make eye contact. He was pretty sure she was looking at the right side of his head and it left him feeling a little unsettled and self-conscious. 

 

“I was wondering if we could maybe go for coffee and you could explain that Fibo thingie—“

 

“The Fibonacci sequence. Uh—“ he hesitated as he finishing putting a few more folders back into his bag and closed it. He considered his words.

 

“Gabrielle, is it?” When she nodded, he continued, “Well, you see—“

 

His iPhone rang. It was still sitting next to the computer on the table beside them and he’d never been happier to have it interrupt him as he was at that moment. The ringtone told him it was Grace calling and for that, he was ever thankful.

 

“Excuse me,” he directed his words at Gabrielle as he grabbed the phone and turned slightly away from her.

 

“Grace! Sweetheart! What’s up?”

 

“Hey Spence. I just wanted to let you know I didn’t end up having to stay too late at work. I’m at home now and making dinner.”

 

“I can’t wait. I’m on the way home. Love you,” he winced slightly knowing that Gabrielle could hear every word he said. He waited while Grace echoed the sentiment then clicked the phone off. Turning back to face Gabrielle, he waved the phone slightly.

 

“You’re married.” Gabrielle said in a disappointed and embarrassed tone.

 

“Not yet, but,” Reid let the reply die on his lips and Gabrielle’s smile faded.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking very awkward and sheepish.

 

“Don’t be sorry. Just continue to be an enthusiastic student,” he encouraged.

 

The smile reappeared on Gabrielle’s face. She leaned in closer to Reid and touched a finger to the right side of his hair.

 

 “I’ll be a shining star, just like you,” she told him before turning and leaving the classroom.

 


	6. Chapter 6

An hour later, after two train connections and a short walk, Spencer stepped out of the elevator and put his key in the door of Grace’s apartment.

 

She heard his arrival and turned from tending their dinner in the kitchen to greet him. They kissed and as Grace stepped back and broke eye contact, she suddenly laughed when her gaze set upon the right side of his head.

 

His eyes followed as she reached out with one hand and touched a finger to his hair, in the same place as Gabrielle had.

 

“You too?” he lamented. “One of my students did that earlier. What’s so funny?”

 

He held still while Grace fiddled with his hair and then presented him with the evidence. 

 

“It’s glitter,” she told him, “From the _Milky Bath.”_  

 

He sighed and protested, “But we showered after.”

 

“Yes, but neither one of us washed our hair.”

 

He conceded the point and stowed away his coat and messenger bag, and then made his way to the bathroom to wash up before dinner. Checking in the mirror, he plucked at several spots in his hair, removing more offending glitter and wondered just how many of his students had seen his hair sparkling. And not said anything! Rolling his eyes, he laughed it off and went to join Grace for dinner.

 

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“ _Okay,”_ Garcia typed a reply to the email she’d just received. _“But it would probably be better if you just called about this in the future instead of emailing here. You know the number.”_

 

Agents Lewis and Alvez came into her office and Garcia quickly minimised her screen before turning to address them, “What can I do for you?”

 

Tara furrowed her brow. She wondered what Garcia was hiding but instead she asked aloud, “I realise he’s on his thirty days out of the field, Penelope, but I was wondering if there was some way we could get Reid up here. We want his input on something.”

 

“Yeah, and since it wouldn’t exactly be _out in the field_ ,” Alvez skirted, “we thought it’d be okay to see what he thinks.” 

 

Garcia considered that for a moment before breaking into a smile. “I’m sure Emily would agree with that. But we don’t wanna call him while he’s doing his seminar.”

 

Tara nodded in agreement. 

 

“And I’m expecting a return text from him on something I asked him earlier, so I’ll just ask him to come here when he replies.”

 

“Awesome. Thanks Pen,” Tara smiled and Garcia’s phone rang.

 

The two women locked eyes for a moment and then Alvez touched Lewis’ arm and he and Tara left Garcia’s office. Hastily, the analyst grabbed the ringing phone.

 

“Garcia,” she announced, and once she realised who her caller was, immediately lowered her voice. “Ah, hello, sir.”

 

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“Thank you so much for your attention and interest and great questions,” Reid addressed his class. “For those interested, my next seminar will be next Tuesday, right here at nine a.m. Have a great weekend!”

 

He clicked off the computer and made a mental note to thank Garcia again for her help preparing the Power Point presentation he’d just given. The class had been enthralled by geographic profiling and had kept him almost a half an hour longer than scheduled with its enthusiastic questions. Now, as the students shuffled out of the auditorium, he pulled his iPhone from his pocket and noticed he had several text messages.

 

He smiled as he read the one from Grace. Apparently Albert had been moved to a full care section at Hetherington’s but he’d asked about Grace and Maureen in one of his lucid moments. They’d gone to see him during their break. He answered Grace’s question about dinner then scrolled down to the next text.

 

It was from Garcia and asked him to stop by the office that afternoon. Puzzled but pleased, he tapped a reply, informing her he was on his way.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Reid stepped off the elevator on the sixth floor and made his way to Garcia’s office. He knocked on the door and, receiving no acknowledgement, opened it to find the room empty. Reclosing the door, he turned and found Tara Lewis motioning him to the conference room.

 

At the round table, Reid found Lewis, Alvez and Garcia waiting for him. 

 

“What’s up?” He asked.

 

Lewis and Alvez spread the contents of a file on the table.

 

“We wondered if any of this means anything to you.”

 

He stepped forward and picked up one of the files. After scanning it, he looked up and asked, “Did you ask the family about pets?”

 

“Pets?” Lewis inquired. 

 

“I know it sounds crazy, but look at the victims. All three of them were shot point blank at close range. Ballistics reports indicate that the shells from all three victims came from the same gun. Obviously that’s our connection. But what’s the motive? And what’s the connection between the victims?” 

 

He paused to take a breath and laid three crime scene photos out on the table. Tapping the first one with a finger he continued, “Look at this first victim, George Davies. He was a retired postal clerk, found with a makeshift mask on his face held in place with a lot of duct tape.” He motioned to the next one. “The second one, Chelsea Sorenson was a homemaker, and she had a dead mouse placed on her chest. And the last one, the most recent victim,” he picked up the photo, “was Jason Seidenberg, an accountant, found barefoot, his running shoes ripped to shreds and spread out around the body. Yet all three died of multiple gunshot wounds, mostly to the chest. None of them knew each other, worked at the same place or moved in the same social circles. So what is the significance of these items found with the bodies?” 

 

Waving the photo he held in one hand, he stopped to breathe again. Alvez and Lewis followed his reasoning but were stymied by the significance.

 

“I don’t know,” Alvez finally confessed. “What does it have to do with pets?”

 

Reid set the photo down on the table and referred to the first one again. “This one looks like a muzzle, taped down to hold the mouth firmly shut. This one,” he pointed out the second one, “could be indicative of an pet’s offering. Cats often bring home mice or birds they’ve caught to their owners. And this one—“

 

Alvez clued in and interrupted, “Dogs will often chew shoes, especially soft ones like slippers or sports shoes. That’s what this one looks like.”

 

Reid nodded approvingly.

 

Lewis picked up the thought, “So you think the unsub is someone who’s angry with pet owners?”

 

Reid nodded again. “Talk to the families. Find out if they’ve had pets that have presented these problems. I’m thinking the unsub is an animal lover who was upset by particular incidents involving pets.”

 

“We already profiled the killer as organised and methodical. Now he appears to be a justice seeker too,” Lewis furrowed her brow as she spoke.

 

“We’ll go interview the families of the victims,” Alvez asserted. 

 

“There will probably be more victims if we don’t find him soo—“ Lewis paused midsentence. She looked at Alvez, and tilted her head ever so slightly in Reid’s direction. Alvez looked over at Reid and a smile spread across his face.

 

Reid noticed Garcia was also staring at him.

 

“What?” he asked uncomfortably when he realised they were staring at him.

 

“You know, you’re infringing on my territory, Boy Wonder.”

 

Alvez smirked and Lewis stifled a giggle.

 

“What? Because I’m thinking it’s animal related?”

 

“Nooooo,” she drew out the word as she stood up from her chair and stood right next to him. “The whole uniqueness _aura._ In my case, the floral adornments and hair decorations.” She reached out and touched a spot on his jaw with one hand, brushing his long hair away from his face and showed him her now glitter-covered finger. “Your uniqueness has always been your smarts and your reading ability. The genius IQ thing. _My_ uniqueness is my appearance. My hair, my clothes, _my_ things. _You’re_ muscling into _my_ territory, 187.” She wiped her finger on his shirt deliberately.

 

Reid made a face and Alvez and Lewis pretended to be preoccupied with the files and the new angle Reid had just given them. 

 

“I’m sorry Garcia. It’s—“ he paused. _Wow, I’m not telling her it’s bubble bath_ he scolded himself silently. “It’s not intentional. I, uh, used Grace’s hairbrush, there must have been some glitter on it.”

 

Too late, he realised he’d just admitted in a roundabout way to staying at Grace’s apartment overnight.

 

“Pets. We’re on it,” Lewis interjected, giving Alvez a significant look and taking his arm, headed towards the door.

 

“I’m a pet owner myself,” Alvez admonished himself. “I shoulda thought of this,” he agreed, tapping Reid’s shoulder as he followed Lewis out of the room.

 

Garcia turned to Reid.

 

“You’re sleeping at Grace’s.”

 

It was a statement not a question. Garcia tried not to laugh as she saw the blush creep up Reid’s face. Feeling a little guilty, Garcia reached out to him.

 

“Reid—Spencer. Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s awesome that you’ve found someone. Really. I think _all_ of us probably feel that way.” She was reluctant to bring up the subject of Maeve and stopped talking, stroking his arm affectionately instead.

 

“We stay over at each other’s place all the time,” he started. _And that just told Garcia this has been going on for some time,_ he realised belatedly.

 

He bit his lip and was trying to think of something else to say as Emily opened the door and entered the conference room.

 

“Alvez and Lewis just told me—“ she began and stopped short as she took in the sight before her. “You know, Reid, I expect the weird outfits and presentation from Garcia here. But glitter? In your hair? Really?”

 

Garcia reached up with one hand and flicked some more glitter out of his hair and then told Prentiss, “I’m afraid I’ve already embarrassed him, Emily. He picked this up at Grace’s.”

 

Prentiss’ eyes rose. “Oh?”

 

Reid sighed. “She’s my girlfriend. But you all already know this. We’ve become very close and pretty serious. And I guess there must be glitter in her hairbrush.” He made a face, “I should get my own.”

 

“Rei—Spencer,” Prentiss attempted to smooth things over. “I was just teasing. And you know we do that out of love and affection, right?”

 

He looked from one to the other, Garcia nodding in agreement with Emily.

 

“I invited Grace to Girls Night Out with us,” Emily told him. “I hope that’s okay.” She took in the surprised and somewhat anxious look on Reid’s face and continued, “We’re not planning the third degree, Spencer. We just want to include her as part of the greater BAU family. Because if she’s important to you, she’s important to us.” She paused for a moment, then concerned, added, “I hope that’s okay?”

 


	7. TRIGGER WARNING!! (miscarriage)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter, and beyond, deals with miscarriage which may trigger some readers.
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A sharp pain in her abdomen jolted Grace awake in the middle of the night and she extricated herself from Spencer’s arms and hurried to the bathroom. She was dismayed to find blood in her pajamas and cried softly as another pain suddenly shot through her, sending her sliding down to the floor clutching her stomach. _This can’t be happening,_ Grace thought despairingly as her abdomen contracted again and a mass of blood and tissue flowed from her body out into the towels she’d hurriedly arranged beneath her.

 

“No, no,” she wept inaudibly, grieving the impending loss silently as several more cramps swept through her. Leaning against the bathroom wall, she sat quietly as the physical pains subsided, leaving her to languish over the miscarriage. She’d only just suspected the pregnancy a few days ago and had not yet had it confirmed by the doctor. Nor had she informed Spencer because she wanted professional confirmation first. Now she leaned miserably against the bathroom wall, one hand clasped against her tummy and crying silently over the loss.

 

Spencer found her there several hours later, fast asleep and curled up on the floor clutching another towel. Her face was tearstained and he saw the blood on the towels around her and on her pajamas and knew immediately what had happened.

 

  Torn between waking her up to comfort her and not wanting to disturb her needed sleep, he picked her up as gently as he could and carried her back to the bed. 

 

He slid his iPhone out of his pocket and sent a text message to Maureen:

 

_Please call me as soon as you can._

 

Stepping out of the room, he called Hetherington’s, asked for the nursing supervisor and, once connected to Sandy, explained that Grace was ill and wouldn’t be in to work for the next few days. 

 

“I’ll keep you updated as soon as I know more,” he told her.

 

“Of course, Dr. Reid. Please give her our love.”

 

Turning back to Grace, Spencer ensured she was comfortable then set about cleaning up the bathroom. He bagged the bloody towels and set them by the front door to toss out later, then returned to see Grace awakening.

 

As she became aware, she remembered what had happened and a fresh bout of tears sprang forth. Immediately, he sat next to her on the bed and drew her up into his arms.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she sputtered as she cried. “I lost our baby.” Her shoulders shook as the crying overwhelmed her and he sat still, just holding her and rubbing her back as his own tears fell.

 

She sobbed for some time and Spencer thought it best to just let her cry it out first before he said anything besides “it’s gonna be okay.”

 

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For three days, Grace would not get out of bed except to use the bathroom and for the one doctor’s appointment she’d had to ensure that she was physically healthy and going to recover from the miscarriage. She refused food, would not answer her phone and pushed Spencer away when he tried to talk to her. 

 

He’d read everything he could about miscarriage and grief over the loss of an unborn child. He exhausted the Internet searching for coping advice and how to help the process of recovery. He sat with her for hours, trying to reassure her she was not at fault. His research had told him not to say things like ‘ _there will be other babies’_ or _‘it wasn’t meant to be.’_ Instead, he just assured her he loved her and didn’t blame her for the loss.

 

He’d called Emily and asked her to relay to the supervisor that he’d be postponing the next planned seminar and Emily assured him she’d take care of everything at her end.

 

“Take all the time she needs. You need. You’re where you need to be right now. The seminars will wait, Spencer. Please let me know if there’s anything any of us can do.”

 

“Thanks Emily,” he sighed, clicking off his phone and returning to the bedroom.

 

She was sitting up in the bed, eyes staring at nothing out the window. His heart broke for her, but for himself too. He wondered how long she’d known she was pregnant. _If she’d known,_ he conceded. He grappled with his own sense of loss, not knowing what to say to her when he could hardly fathom his own pain. What he was sure of, though, was that they were in this together. Wherever this journey was taking them, they were going to do it together. He sat down on the bed beside her and took her hand. For the first time in three days, she didn’t recoil and take her hand back. He rubbed his thumb across the top of her hand for a long moment then drew it up to his lips and kissed it. She allowed the action but said nothing. 

 

Her eyes continued to stare blankly out the window at the rain falling outside. They sat together for a long while before Spencer finally moved. He stood up, kissed her forehead and told her once again,

 

“I love you. This wasn’t your fault, there’s no blame. You did nothing wrong and it doesn’t change the fact that I love you.” 

 

She hadn’t acknowledged anything he’d said to her since the miscarriage so it was somewhat surprising to him when she clutched at his hand and blurted out, “I lost the baby,” as fresh tears fell from her eyes.

 

He swallowed hard and nodded, “I’m so sorry.” She dropped his hand and he walked over to the window.

 

“We lost our baby,” he whispered softly as he knuckled away his own tears.

 

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	8. Chapter 8

“Tara, Luke,” Emily ushered them into the conference room where Garcia was already seated with her laptop before her.

 

“Reid was right,” Luke started. “We talked to the families of Jason Seidenberg, the accountant with the shredded running shoes and Chelsea Sorenson, the homemaker with the dead mouse.”

 

“George Davies’ family lives in New York. He was a widower, his wife died last year.” Lewis related. “His two married sons both live in Rochester, New York and haven’t seen their father for a couple of years. According to his neighbours, he used to have a big dog, a collie that barked. A lot.”

 

“There was no sign of a dog in his house though,” Luke added.

 

“Hmm,” Prentiss thought for a moment, then turned to Garcia, “Penelope, see what comes up about George Davies on that” she indicated Garcia’s laptop.

 

“On it, Boss.”

 

Luke and Tara waited for Prentiss’ attention to return to them, and then Alvez continued. “Chelsea Sorenson’s husband Adam had a cat before they got married. Twin sons joined their little family a year later. We talked to Adam, and apparently after the babies were born, the cat was outside more often than not and brought home mice several times.” 

 

“One of the neighbours said Chelsea thought the babies were at risk and wanted the cat gone. Said she told her she’d stopped feeding it or letting it into the house, essentially abandoning it.” Lewis contributed.

 

“Oh god, that’s terrible,” Prentiss opined, an avid cat owner herself. She thought briefly about her Sergio and the lengths to which she’d gone to ensure her cat’s safety and wellbeing during her own frequent absences. 

 

Garcia interjected, “Whoa. So, this George Davies was all over the news last year, not long after his wife died. He was charged with animal cruelty when a neighbour called Animal Control. The dog had been barking and barking and this neighbour said he’d complained about it several times. And suddenly there was _never_ any dog barking. So they called Animal Control again and _they_ discovered the poor collie tied up in the yard. Wearing a muzzle. Which had been tightly taped up to keep him quiet. For days. Oh my god, I can’t even—“

 

Alvez swore under his breath and Lewis shook her head in disgust and spoke, “Anyone could have seen that in the news. But how would our unsub have known about the cat? Or the Seidenberg dog,” she explained, “Jason Seidenberg was angry that their dog kept chewing up shoes and told his teenagers he was going to give the dog away. They were upset when they came home from school and found that the dog was gone.”

 

“The school,” Prentiss mused. She turned to the map they had tacked to the wall and picked up a marker. There were already three big ‘X’s on the map signifying the residences of the three victims. While they were all in different areas of the subdivision, the local high school was central to the residences. 

 

“Penelope, is there any connection between the Seidenbergs and the Sorensons?” she asked. Garcia tapped away at the computer. Turning to Alvez and Lewis, she inquired, “What happened to the Seidenberg dog?”

 

“It was surrendered to the pound,” Alvez scowled.

 

“Oh my,” Garcia interrupted. “Here we go. The Sorensons employ a teenage girl from that high school as a babysitter. Her name is Eva Middleton and guess what? Her next-door neighbours are the Seidenbergs. _And—_ this has stressor and trigger written all over it—her parents were divorced a couple of years ago and her mother just got remarried last month.”

 

“When these murders started,” Lewis pointed out.

 

“And her new stepfather, who is a DC police officer, is allergic to cats.”

 

Prentiss sighed. “Let me guess. So she has to get rid of her cat.”

 

Garcia nodded.

 

“I don’t like where this is going,” Prentiss told them, reaching for her phone to call the DCPD as well. “Let’s go pick her up.”

 

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The buzzer went off indicating there was a visitor downstairs and Spencer hurried to speak to the caller. It was Maureen, who wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer.

 

“I’m not sure she’s ready to talk to anyone, Maureen,” he warned.

 

“She doesn’t have to talk. Just listen,” Maureen replied. “Please let me up.”

 

Somewhat reluctantly, Spencer pressed the button that would remotely unlock the front door and allow Maureen access to the building. He had less than two minutes to prepare Grace for the arrival of her well-intentioned friend.

 

“Grace, sweetheart?” he ventured, entering the bedroom quietly.

 

She was sitting up in the bed, clutching a pillow against herself.

 

“Who was at the door? Did you send them away?”

 

“It’s Maureen, and she’ll be here momentarily.”

 

“I don’t want to see her. Or anyone.”

 

“Yeah, I told her that. She’s on her way up anyway.”

 

Unbelievably, she laughed. He smiled in return.

 

The doorbell went and Spencer moved to admit Maureen. 

 

After giving him a hug, Maureen whispered, “Why don’t you go out for a while? I bet after three and a half days in here you must be ready to climb the walls.”

 

He saw the wisdom in her words, nodded, and grabbing a coat and his phone, left to go for a walk.

 

Maureen took a deep breath and headed for the bedroom. 

 

“Well hello stranger,” she greeted Grace, and without pausing made her way to the window and opened the curtains as wide as they could go to admit the sunlight. After three days of rain and dreary weather—both inside and outside the apartment Maureen was sure—she was determined to make Grace feel a little more sunny herself.

 

“I brought you some flowers. But they need sunlight too, so I expect this curtain to be left open, even after I’m gone.”

 

Grace nodded.

 

“I’m here to give you some tough love, you know that, right?” Maureen told her. 

 

Again Grace nodded.

 

Softening for just a moment, Maureen patted Grace’s hand with her own good hand, “I’m truly sorry about your loss, Honey. Yours _and Spencer’s_ loss,” she pointed out. “It’s never fair and it’s never easy,” Maureen commiserated, sitting on the bed beside Grace. A single tear rolled down Grace’s cheek and she took Maureen’s hand.

 

“Everybody at Hetherington’s sends their love.” Maureen told her. 

 

“Thank you. How is everyone?” Grace asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

 

“Well, let’s see. Albert’s had a couple of good days. LaMarr passed his latest exams; he’s one step closer to being a nurse. So exciting.”

 

“It is,” Grace agreed. “He’s so good.”

 

“The weather has sucked. Diana was complaining about not being able to go feed Chitter. And Iris has her hands full with you off and me only half-there,” Maureen waved her broken wrist and snorted as she giggled, “And Rhonda wants you back ASAP. Apparently, I’m useless at reading Shakespeare,” Maureen said with a laugh.

 

She waved her cast-encased wrist again and joked, “And obviously, shuffleboard is still off.”

 

Grace laughed. Maureen smiled widely. “That’s better. Listen,” she paused for emphasis, “You grieve. You have every right to. You’ve suffered a tremendous loss. Both of you have. But you will pick up the pieces and carry on, Grace. You will never forget this loss but don’t let it destroy you. And don’t let it destroy the love you and Spencer have.”

 

Grace nodded and gave Maureen a brave little smile.

 

“Listen to me, I’m a freakin’ psychologist now,” Maureen rolled her eyes as she spoke. “But seriously. Promise me. Promise yourself. And Spencer. You will grieve and feel this loss, but you can draw from it and emerge with greater strength than ever.” She gripped Grace’s arm and shook it with conviction as she spoke.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Yes, you will, Grace. Where’s the spunky nurse I went to college with? The one who stormed the dean’s office with me when they wanted to pull the funding for specialist studies? The one who led the charge back to that fraternity house and demanded they release the stolen goat? The one who—“

 

“Okay, okay. I get it,” Grace told her, a slight smile forming on her lips. She stared down at her pillow for a long moment, and then picked it up and cuddled it gently. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she confided, “I wasn’t even sure I was pregnant, Maureen. I was late, way late. Over a month. But there’s been so much stress and, well, I’ve missed periods before.”

 

Maureen reached out and took one of Grace’s hands again.

 

“And I puked a couple of times. But I thought it was the tomato soup. I mean, I suspected it; I _wanted_ to be pregnant, but I wasn’t totally sure.”

 

“You hadn’t told Spencer yet, had you?”

 

Grace shook her head miserably, “No. I wanted to be sure. I made a doctor’s appointment. And then,” a sob threatened to choke her, “and then I lost it. I lost the baby. I lost _our_ baby.”

 

Maureen waited while Grace cried for a moment again, drawing her friend into her arms.

 

“Don’t forget, Grace, _Spencer_ lost this baby too. I don’t mean to make you feel guilty or anything, but remember he has some grieving to do too. Perhaps you could grieve together? You should go through this journey together.”

 

Grace nodded emphatically. 

 

“Well then,” Maureen rose to her feet and taking Grace’s hand in hers, drew Grace to her feet as well. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

 

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	9. Chapter 9

Spencer walked through the park behind the apartment building. He followed one of the trails to the library at the intersection a block away. After browsing through the self-help section, he found a couple of books about grieving and proceeded to check them out, stowing them in his messenger bag. He left the library and walked without a destination in mind for about half an hour, his mind on Grace and their loss, and suddenly found himself standing in front of JJ’s house. Her car was in the driveway. 

 

For five whole minutes, he stood there, debating whether to disturb her Sunday or not; and then the decision was made for him. 

 

Her front door opened and JJ strode down the walkway to meet him. “Spence, what are you doing here? How are you?” Not waiting for a reply, she took his arm and propelled him towards the door, “Come on in, I’ve been hoping for a chance to talk to you.”

 

After they were safely inside, she shut the door and turned to him, drawing him into her arms. “I’m so sorry about the miscarriage.”

 

 _So she knew,_ he thought. _They probably all knew._ A small part of him was relieved to know he wouldn’t have to tell his teammates about the loss. Aloud, he thanked her and then, unable to stop himself any longer, broke down in tears.

 

JJ steered him into the living room, sitting him on the sofa and took a seat next to him. She let him cry for a moment, rubbing his back as he did so. 

 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she reassured. “It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to let this out.” She realised at that moment that he’d probably been holding it together for Grace’s sake for days now, “Oh my god, you’ve been so brave. Let it out, Spence.”

 

He gulped and sobbed and dropped his head into his hands, shaking with grief as four days of having to be the stalwart one came to an end and now the floodgates opened. 

 

Next to him, JJ was still, allowing him to purge his feelings uninterrupted. After a few minutes, he raised his head back up, the tears finished. 

 

Sighing, he admitted, “I needed that.”

 

She nodded, “You did. I take it you weren’t aware she was pregnant?”

 

“I don’t think even she knew she was until aft—after the—“

 

“Right,” JJ interrupted, seeing his discomfort and squeezing his arm. She stood up and said, “Listen, Will took the boys to the Zoo today, I was working on some files for Emily and I was just stopping to get some lunch when I saw you out there. Let’s grab some food. I bet you’re hungry, I’ll make us some lunch.”

 

He rose and followed her into the kitchen. In a matter of minutes, JJ had sandwiches and soup made and ready to serve. 

 

As they ate, JJ reminded him of her own history.

 

“You were there for me Spence, remember? If I can help at all, if you want to talk or you want me to talk to Grace,” she offered.

 

He looked up from his soup and smiled his thanks. “She’s been holed up in bed for almost four days now.”

 

JJ acknowledged this with a nod but didn’t want to interrupt him. 

 

“Maureen—that’s a nurse she works with and went to nursing school with years ago—is visiting with her right now. First person she’s talked to since,” he paused and sighed and JJ reached out and patted his arm, “Since the miscarriage.”

 

He rose from the chair and took his empty plate and mug over to the kitchen sink. JJ’s eyes followed his movement, but she sensed he wasn’t done talking and waited for him to continue.

 

“I’m not sure whether I should be giving her space, or,” he trailed off, inviting her to speak.

 

JJ moved to stand next to him, “Whatever you do, Spence, don’t let her shut you out.” Her eyes clouded over for a moment and she explained, “I shut Will out. I should never have done that. It’s a joint loss. I mean, I realise I was the one who physically lost the baby, like Grace did. But Will lost too. And so have you. Don’t let her shut you out. You need each other.”

 

He nodded. “I won’t.”

 

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“I’ll see what I can do about that, Sir. I can ask Unit Chief Prentiss to—“ Garcia was sitting at her desk and speaking to her caller on one of her phones. She paused abruptly when her office door opened and Senior Agent David Rossi walked in. “We’ll talk later,” she hastily told her caller and disconnected the call. She turned in her chair and addressed the newcomer.

 

“Agent Rossi, what can I do for you?” 

 

“Can you work that computer magic of yours and get me some info on this guy?” He handed her a photograph.

 

She eyed him questioningly.

 

“I realise I can Google as well as anyone else, but this calls for your touch. It’s a screen grab from a surveillance tape,” he explained.

 

“I see that,” she countered.

 

“Aren’t you gonna ask what surveillance tape?”

 

“It looks like _Reid’s_ apartment building.”

 

 

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He entered the apartment and was surprised to find Grace sitting in her recliner, her _MacBook_ open in her lap. Maureen came out of the bathroom and found Spencer standing next to Grace’s chair.

 

“Oh, good, you’re back. Listen, I have to head back to Hetherington’s,” she started, and walked over to give Grace a peck goodbye before making her way to the entrance. Spencer followed her to the door. Maureen took her coat from the hook there and whispered to Spencer, “I didn’t want to leave her alone, but she’s doing okay. She’ll be all right.”

 

Aloud, she continued, “It’s Scrabble night, and that’s one thing I can still do, broken wrist or no. I’ll see you in a couple days, okay?” she addressed Grace who acknowledged her,

 

“Wednesday afternoon Mo!  Looking forward to it and thanks for coming over today. You really helped.”

 

“Wednesday afternoon,” Maureen echoed. “I’ll bring Thai. And forks,” she added with a laugh, and a nod to Spencer’s inability to navigate chopsticks.

 

“Thanks,” Spencer told Maureen as she left. He returned to Grace’s side and saw that she was perusing a medical website. Squeezing her shoulder he asked her gently, 

 

“How are you feeling? You had a nice visit with Maureen.”

 

She nodded, and reached up to take the hand he’d put on her shoulder. 

 

“Are you hungry at all? Can I get you something?”

 

She shook her head no and rose from the seat, leaving her laptop on the chair, and still holding his hand walked over to the sofa and sat down, drawing him down next to her.

 

“I need you to listen to me, Spencer.”

 

His heart sank at the serious tone of her voice, but he nodded, swallowed and gave her his full attention.

 

“I’m okay. I’m feeling good today but I know there will be days ahead when I don’t feel good. I need you to understand that some days I’ll be fine, like today. And some days I’ll be,” she paused for a second, “Awful to be around.”

 

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “One thing that won’t ever change though, is that I love you. When I’m having one of those down days, I’ll be horrid. I’ll probably say terrible things. I’m asking you now to recognise that it’s one of those days and just know in your heart that it will pass and it doesn’t change the fact that I love you.”

 

He nodded and squeezed her hand.

 

“I lost this baby and I know deep down it isn’t my fault.” She put a finger to his lips when she saw he was about to say something. “But there will _always_ be the feeling of loss, the guilt that maybe I could have done something to prevent this from happening. I don’t know. I’ll never know. All I can do is grieve the loss, learn to live with it and carry on, hoping that some day I _will_ have another baby.”

 

Her voice caught and she stopped for a moment to collect herself. Again Spencer squeezed her hand.

 

“There’s something else.”

 

She looked into his eyes and saw the raw emotion there. It was all she could do to not cry, but she knew she had to forge ahead.

 

“It’s not just _my_ loss, Spencer. _You_ lost this baby too, and for the last few days, you’ve been my rock. So strong and brave and yet you must be feeling some of the same grief I am. I hope you’ve been able to find some comfort, too. Maybe talk to someone?”

 

He released her hand and instead drew her tightly into his arms. 

 

“I love you, Spencer, and I’m so sorry _we_ lost our baby.”

 

“I’m sorry too,” he spoke softly, his head bowed against hers. “I love you, too, Grace.”

 

“And, when we’re ready, I hope we can try again.”

 

He held her closer.

 

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	10. Chapter 10

“I will get in touch with her and let you know. Thank you, Sir,” Garcia ended the call and returned her attention to her computer keyboard. A few minutes later, her eyebrows rose in surprise. She tapped a few more keystrokes, saved the file and then shut down the computer. After securing her office, she made her way down to the bullpen.

 

“Ready to go, JJ?” she asked, stopping at Agent Jareau’s desk.

 

“Yep. I told Grace we’d pick her up and meet Emily and Tara at the club. Kristy Simmons can’t make it unfortunately. One of the kids took ill and Matt is at home with the others while she takes the sick one to the Urgent Care Centre. You know, cause it’s late and the doctor’s office would be closed.”  Her face reflected the knowing look of a similarly experienced parent.

 

 “Awww. Hope the little Simmons is feeling better soon,” Garcia said sympathetically. “But Grace is feeling up to coming with us?” Garcia asked her.

 

“Spence says she has up days and down days. Mostly up days, thank goodness. It’s been almost three weeks. He’s been with her most of it, apparently. But his thirty out of the field is up; he’s due back to the team on Monday. And she went back to work yesterday. Spence tried to talk her out of it, but you know Grace.”

 

“Stubborn and feisty. I love her.”

 

“And smart enough to know what’s best for her, too, Pen.”

 

“We’re overdue, I’m so pumped for Ladies’ Night.” Garcia was bubbling with anticipation. “I got a bunch us little tiaras for the occasion.” Rifling through her oversized purse, she procured one from its depths to show JJ. “And I made sure I got a ton of singles from the bank.”

 

JJ laughed as they entered the elevator.

 

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“I’m glad you said you’d come to dinner with me tonight, Spencer, I’ve been wanting to talk to you. But between our cases, and your seminars, I haven’t been able to touch base with you for ages. Until this morning.” Rossi spoke as he pulled into the parking lot of one of his favourite DC restaurants.

 

“Grace is at Ladies’ Night with Garcia and the others tonight,” Reid replied. “So this is the perfect opportunity.”

 

After they were seated off in a private little corner at Rossi’s request, he ordered drinks and appetizers. Rossi’s Scotch and Reid’s Arnold Palmer arrived in record time and Rossi began his inquisition.

 

“So. We talked about cases. And courses. And now, my friend, I want to know. How are _you_ doing?” Rossi’s concern was genuine and Reid recognised this immediately.

 

His voice lowered, “I’m okay, Rossi.”

 

“Dave.”

 

“Dave,” he conceded. “I’m disappointed, obviously, that we lost our baby. But I didn’t even know about it until it was gone. And honestly, my concern was,” he paused and amended, “ _is,_ Grace.”

 

Rossi nodded attentively.

 

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t affected. It hurt. It still hurts.” His gaze dropped from Rossi to the tablecloth and his fingers drew circles in the linen as his thoughts lingered on that terrible night.

 

Rossi looked up and saw the waiter approaching with a basket of garlic bread. Subtly, he sent the waiter a message with his eyes and the observant server took the hint and quickly detoured away from their table.

 

Reid’s eyes filled and Rossi discreetly feigned attention to his Scotch glass for a moment to give Reid an opportunity to blink them away.

 

Fishing a handkerchief from his pocket, Reid wiped at his eyes and then returned the small square to his pocket. A few minutes later and unseen by Reid, Rossi signaled the waiter once more. Almost immediately, their garlic bread and antipasto arrived at the table and then the waiter again made himself scarce.

 

“Obviously, Grace is more affected than I am,” Reid reasoned. “I mean, _she_ suffered both mentally and physically. We’ve talked about it though, Dave. She warned me she’d have good days and bad. And there have been. Fortunately, more good days than bad.” 

 

He paused and made eye contact with Rossi, and sighed. He bit his lip, looked down at the table and stalled, and Rossi’s heart went out to him. 

 

“I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, Spencer, but I thought you might wanna commiserate with somebody who’s been there.”

 

Reid’s head shot up at this revelation. “Ross—Dave,” he corrected, “You’ve lost a baby?”

 

Rossi’s eyes clouded over and he nodded. “James David Rossi. Born and died April 26, 1979. He would’ve been a couple years older than you, Spencer.”

 

“I’m sorry Dave. I had no idea.” Reid pondered this disclosure for a moment and gained insight and new respect for the older man sitting across the table from him.

 

“Glad to hear the two of you are working on healing together. That was the second biggest mistake Caroline and I made. We didn’t talk to _each other._ We pushed each other away. I buried myself in my work. And she just buried herself in her misery. Which led to the biggest mistake we ever made.”

 

“The divorce?” Reid guessed in a quiet voice.

 

 Rossi nodded, grimaced and told him, “So, keep talking. Don’t do what we did. You and Grace. Talk to each other. Help each other. And don’t sell your own pain short, Spencer,” Rossi said with the knowing voice of experience.

 

 The light returned to Rossi’s eyes and he told the younger man, “Losing my own kid, almost the same age as you. It’s one of the reasons why I think of you as a son.”

 

A slight smile crossed Reid’s face. “Thank you,” he murmured.

 

“Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I know what it’s like to lose a child. I know what it’s like to have to hold it together for the sake of the woman you love when all you really want to do is just curl up and cry yourself. Or yell and scream. Throw things. Blame the Fates or God or whatever. And I hope you’ve done those things, Spencer. It’s not healthy to hold it in. You get to be human and react, too, Son.”

 

“I have, Dave, I have. Cried a river and thrown a mountain. Blamed everything and everyone but Grace. I even went running with Luke Alvez one day,” he told his older friend. “Although Roxie left us both in her dust,” he added as a slight grin crossed his face.

 

“That’s my boy.” Rossi was heartened to hear this. “But, just know. If you need to vent, need to talk, Spencer, I am always here for you.”

 

“Thank you so much, Dave. This,” he brightened somewhat, “this is helping, too. I even had a talk with Will. He’s been through this too.”

 

“Indeed he has,” Rossi conceded. “See, you’re not alone.”

 

“No. No I’m not. Everyone’s been really great. JJ. Will. You. Emily—“ a thought occurred to him and he shared, “Did you know Emily made sure the seminars were rescheduled? She rearranged everything for me. She even offered to deliver one of my seminars.”

 

“We take care of our own,” Rossi voiced as their wine and dinner arrived.  “And speaking of which,” he gestured as the waiter set their linguine before them. He poured their wine and nodded as he left them to enjoy their meals.

 

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	11. Chapter 11

The male dancer gyrated dangerously close to Tara Lewis and Emily Prentiss and both women reacted raucously. Seated at a table right at the front of the stage, the ladies laughed and made encouraging remarks as the dancer loosened another button on his shirt.

 

“Oh. Do it!” Lewis called out, “Take it off!”

 

“You heard her, take it off!” Prentiss added loudly. All around them, other similarly inspired women were cheering the dancer on as the music pounded. They had to shout to be heard.

 

Sitting around their table, the tiara-wearing five friends were all sipping their drinks as the dancer finally lost his shirt. A huge cheer went up through the club as he strutted around the stage bare-chested.

 

“Garcia! Garcia!!” Prentiss had to shout to get Penelope’s attention. Holding her tiara in place so it wouldn’t fall off, Garcia leaned across in front of Grace and yelled, “What’s up Boss?”

 

JJ, sitting on Grace’s other side broke out laughing as Prentiss shouted back “Give me some money, will ya?”

 

Garcia, who was now howling with laughter, dug into her purse and passed a small wad of singles out to her companions. Her tiara fell off and Grace bent down to pick it up. Wiping it on a napkin, she placed it back on Penelope’s head and the others clapped and cheered. 

 

Prentiss leaned across the edge of the raised platform as the dancer made his way back to centre stage. He bent down when she waved at him and quickly, Prentiss tucked one of the dollar bills into his waistband.

 

“Off! OFF!” Lewis gestured.

 

“I’m gonna go get us more drinks,” JJ told the others and she rose to do so.

 

“Thanks!” Lewis and Prentiss called together in unison, not taking their eyes off the dancer.

 

Grace and Penelope watched with interest as the two older women carried on. They traded teasing comments for several minutes and dared Lewis to give the dancer a tip as Prentiss had.

 

After another few minutes, with Lewis and Prentiss completely attuned to the dancer, Garcia whispered, “Grace, come with me please?” as she stood up.

 

Immediately, Grace rose to follow as Garcia made her way to the ladies’ room. They were alone in the washroom as the door shut behind them. Instantly, the noise level was sufficiently reduced so that shouting to be heard was no longer necessary.

 

“Sorry about this,” Garcia started, “But I needed to talk to you alone.”

 

Grace was alarmed, “Is something wrong?”

 

“Oh, no. No, no, no!” Garcia reassured her. “That is, unless something’s wrong for you? I’m sorry.” Now, she was worried.

 

“No, I’m good. This evening has been lots of fun so far. I love my tiara,” Grace laughed, striking an exaggerated princess-like pose. “Watching Emily and Tara go all out over that stripper, it’s so un-special-agent-like,” she giggled.

 

Penelope took Grace’s arm, “I’m so glad you’re having a good time.”

 

“It’s giving me some ideas, Penelope. Ideas I’m not sure Spence would be as enthusiastic about,” she said conspiratorially, eliciting a huge laugh from Garcia.

 

Stifling her laugh, Garcia confided, “Okay, but this is serious. Um, I’ve been contacted by an FBI higher-up.”

 

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	12. Chapter 12

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“I really appreciate all this, Ross—Dave,” Spencer said as Rossi’s car pulled up in front of Grace’s apartment building. “Dinner, drinks, your company. And mostly what you shared tonight. Thank you so much for the support, Dave.”

 

“Anytime Ki—Spencer. I guess I’ll see you Monday at work?”

 

As he alighted from the car, Reid turned back and nodded, “Yeah. Thanks again, Dave. Have a great weekend. See you Monday.”

 

Shutting the car door, he waved as Rossi drove off. He turned to the apartment entrance and searched his pockets for his wallet. Removing the access card from its slot, he swiped it through the lock and let himself into the building.

 

The apartment was dark when he unlocked and entered it. He went through his bedtime routine of taking out his contacts and cleaning them, brushing his teeth and changing into pajamas.  

 

He bit his lip as he buttoned up the pajama top. Since the miscarriage, Spencer had taken to sleeping wearing pajamas. Until Grace indicated she was ready to resume intimacy, he was loath to sleep nude, even though that was Grace’s preference. 

 

Spencer had no idea how late this Ladies Night was going to run, but Emily had promised him that they’d see Grace home safely. He debated staying up to wait for her return. After making himself a cup of herbal tea, he sat down in Grace’s recliner with it and read over his notes for the lesson he’d been preparing. A lesson, he recalled, that would now be put off for one hundred days as he was heading back to the BAU Monday. 

 

He shoved those papers back into the messenger bag and pulled out a Ray Bradbury novel to reread instead. Eleven minutes later, _Fahrenheit 451_ went back into the bag. Sipping the last of his tea, he decided maybe waiting up for Grace was not such a good idea after all. _Would she think he didn’t trust her? Or that she couldn’t’ take care of herself?_ Sighing, he headed to the kitchen to rinse out the mug. 

 

Checking his phone one last time for messages—there were none—he settled the phone into its charging cradle on the nightstand and climbed into bed.

 

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“Thank you so much, guys, for including me! I had a _blast!_ This was so much fun!” Grace told the others in the car. After they’d finished their last round of drinks (plain soft drinks for the two drivers) and tucked their last dollar bills into the waistband of the final dancer, the ladies had declared their night a success and made plans to do it again in the future. JJ told them she would take Tara home and the two of them said goodnight. Shortly thereafter, Emily and Grace left with Penelope, who was now just pulling her car up to Prentiss’ apartment building.

 

“We _all_ had a blast,” Garcia exclaimed. “And Emily got a phone number!”

 

“Oh stop,” Emily admonished, trying to sound like a Unit Chief and failing miserably. “He was cute, wasn’t he?”

 

“And muscular. And talented. And—“

 

“Stop!” she repeated but burst into laughter. She opened her door and exited the car. Prentiss pulled her tiara from her head and passed it through the window to Garcia. “Save these! We’ll need them next time. Good night ladies!”

 

They waited until they saw Emily was safely in her building, and then Garcia pulled back onto the main road and drove Grace home.

 

“So. About what we talked about earlier. Does Monday sound good to you, Grace?”

 

Grace nodded. “I can’t wait. Thank you so much for everything, Penelope.”

 

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	13. Chapter 13

The apartment was quiet and dark when Grace opened the door. Flipping on the front hall light, she immediately noticed Spencer’s shoes neatly lined up on the shoe mat and that his messenger bag was sitting on her recliner.

 

After hanging up her jacket and ditching her own shoes, she made her way to the bathroom and got ready for bed. Tiptoeing into the bedroom, she saw the moonlight streaming through the slightly open curtains and followed the beam to the bed where Spencer was sound asleep. The pale light illuminated his face and seeing that made a smile materialise across Grace’s face. He looked so peaceful, flat on his back with his hair splayed out all around his pillow. 

 

She pulled off her nightgown and let it fall to the floor. Carefully, she climbed into the bed and sitting back on her heels, she undid the buttons on his pajama top and slipped it open. He stirred but didn’t awaken. Grace bent her face down to his chest and gently kissed along it. Again he stirred but didn’t awaken. Straightening back up, Grace’s attention moved to his pajama bottom. She undid the drawstring, loosening the pants from around his waist and then as carefully as she could, pulled them down to expose him fully.

 

  Leaning down, she touched her lips to his chest once more, and then, using her tongue, drew a long line down from his chest to his abdomen and beyond. Less than a minute into her intimate attentions, Spencer awoke with a start. Grace continued, undeterred by his sudden acknowledgement of her actions.

 

“Oh gawwwwwwwwwwwwd—“he drew out the syllable and fought for control. “Grace! Stop! Please!” Dangerously close to climax, he was now hyperventilating and fully awake. Loving the foreplay, but wanting them to reach the moment of climax together, he tried again. He moved, intending to sit up but was thwarted by her hand, pushing him back down on the bed. He took several deep breaths to subvert the hyperventilating and then reached for her but failed. 

 

“Grace! Please.” His voice lowered to a whisper. He sounded very near desperate and Grace relented, releasing him from her mouth into the custody of her hands. She kissed her way back up to his chest, and further towards his neck and he finally managed to draw his arms around her.

 

With his breathing rate back to normal, he nuzzled the top of her head and whispered, “What a way to wake up!”

 

She laughed lightly, still kissing along his throat.

 

“Did you ladies have a good night out?”

 

She murmured affirmatively and then lifted her head, “ But it could be a great night,” she said meaningfully.

 

Running his hands up and down her back with one hand, he pulled himself into a sitting position. “Are you sure?” he asked, concerned.

 

Nodding, she moved off him. “I’m sure,” she invited, as she reclined beneath him. He shifted into position and then, amid contented sighs and whispered declarations of love, Spencer and Grace made love for the first time in nearly a month.

 

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Agents Lewis, Simmons, Alvez and Jareau were all seated together around the round table in the conference room nursing coffee and morning doughnuts that Garcia had set up for them earlier. 

 

She bustled back and forth from her office, waiting for all the arrangements she’d made to fall into place. After dropping off the boxes of doughnuts, Penelope Garcia hurried to the elevator, intending to monitor its passengers. The BAU unit’s chief arrived at the conference room with a file folder in her hands and close behind her, senior agent Rossi followed with another folder. Emily Prentiss motioned for him to shut the door, which he promptly did.

 

“Is somebody gonna let us know what’s going on?” Tara asked, “All this subterfuge is getting to me.”

 

JJ, sitting beside her, nodded in agreement. “Suspense is killing me. 

 

Prentiss circled around the table behind each of the seated members until she reached the three empty chairs. She glanced through the blinds on the window and noticed Garcia hurrying to her office. Smiling with satisfaction, she turned back to the group.

 

“It won’t be much longer,” she promised.

 

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	14. Chapter 14

Spencer Reid stepped off the elevator at the sixth floor and nearly bumped into Penelope Garcia who was standing beside it. Flustered, she apologised and sputtered, and then walking next to him, gestured towards the conference room, “The team’s up there.”

 

He smiled his thanks and made his way up the steps to the conference room. Garcia hurried back to the elevator and stood sentry. 

 

Bursting into the conference room, he immediately reined himself in when he saw the solemnness on some of the faces sitting around the table. “Oh, sorry,” he shut the door quietly. “Sorry about that,” as he turned back to face his teammates, he found himself enclosed in a massive group hug. Rossi, Alvez and JJ hung back, having already offered him their sympathy, watching as Lewis, Prentiss and Simmons all hugged him while expressing their sorrow over his loss.

 

He accepted all their embraces and thanked them, then moved to take his seat at the table. 

 

“I appreciate all your support guys. Grace and I are okay. Thank you all for your concern and love. It means a lot.” 

 

He sat down and opened the file in front of him, signaling the end of any discussion about the miscarriage. Prentiss shot a concerned expression in Rossi’s direction and he answered her silently with a barely detectable shake of his head.

 

“This isn’t a new case file,” Reid pointed out, indicating the folder in front of him.

 

“No. It’s not,” Prentiss agreed. “Just the debriefing for that case we had with the pets. The one you solved for us while on your 30,” she added with a smile.

 

For the third time since she’d entered the conference room, Prentiss glanced out the window overlooking the bullpen. She saw Garcia escorting a familiar woman across the hallway to her office and smiled as the analyst hurried back to the elevator yet again.

 

Turning back to the team, she told them, “Eva Middleton confessed to the shootings. You were right. She was angry about having to get rid of her cat because of her stepfather’s allergy. The Davies killing was to avenge his poor dog. She’d seen all the news coverage about that. While babysitting the Seidenberg kids, she found out they lost their dog too and she felt for them. But she’s a minor herself and well, it’s a matter in front of the courts now. Tara, you’re the psychology expert, I want you to help them out as much as you can.”

 

Lewis acknowledged her superior. Prentiss closed the folder and tossed it down on the table. She stole another look out the window and a smile stretched across her face as she saw the man they’d been waiting for emerge from the elevator.

 

He followed Garcia to her office.

 

The intercom on the conference room desk rang. Prentiss picked it up.

 

“He’s here. We’re ready.”

 

“Come on in then, Penelope,” Prentiss told her, clicking the phone off.

 

A moment later, when she saw them crossing the floor towards the conference room, Prentiss opened the door and admitted Garcia and her two companions.

 

Several jaws dropped in recognition, and Reid rose from his seat and stepped forward.

 

“Grace! John! What are you doing here?”

 

The other agents exchanged looks. They all knew Grace but only Rossi and Prentiss recognised John. They looked to Reid to explain. Instead, John spoke.

 

“Hello, members of the BAU. My name is John. I work in the Internal Security department of the FBI but I’m not here in that capacity today.” He set his briefcase down on the table in front of him.

 

One by one, Lewis, Alvez, Simmons and Jareau introduced themselves and John acknowledged them all.

 

“Spencer and I go back years. Ten years or more. Miss Garcia here tells me you are all aware of the backstory here, so I’ll just cover what I need to. This is all confidential. Like I told Spencer one day, this kind of thing doesn’t get talked about in offices. Certainly not in _our_ office. And I’ll try not to be redundant. You see, Spencer and I met at a Beltway Clean Cops meeting. At the time, he was struggling with dilaudid. And I was almost five years sober myself. Oh, and I’ll tell you here as I told him then we’re all equals here. People. There’s no Director or Sir or Mister. I’m just John. And he’s just Spencer.”

 

He made eye contact with each and every member as he spoke, “I lent Spencer my one year medallion that night because I felt he needed that support. And two months later, when he’d earned his own, he returned it to me. It signifies a lot of hard work and dedication. And if my experience was any indication, a lot of sweat and tears too.”

 

He paused and sent a smile in Reid’s direction before continuing. “I spoke to Emily here, last week, after speaking repeatedly over the last few weeks with Penelope. I’ve kinda been Spencer’s sponsor since the night we met. He’s called me now and again when he’s struggled about something. And when I hadn’t heard from him in a very long time, I contacted Penelope. Found out about the prison frame-up thing.” He paused again and shook his head. “Anyway, I met with the support group folks. I’ve had a couple of meetings with them and as Spencer’s sponsor; it’s my great privilege and honour to be able to do something special today. Something that I felt his lady,” he paused to acknowledge Grace, and gave her a tiny push to stand next to Spencer, “and his closest friends, his teammates, deserved to be in on.”

 

He opened his briefcase and withdrew a small gold box.

 

“Come here, please, Spencer,” John beckoned. Reid stepped forward, standing beside John, who shot a look at Grace, urging her forward as well.

 

“Spencer, it is my joyful duty and absolute honour and pleasure to present to you today, your ten year medallion.” He offered the box to Reid, whose eyes widened in surprise. Grace was near tears as Reid found his voice,

 

“But Mexico—“

 

“Doesn’t count,” John interrupted. “That was forced upon you. It’s a very difficult and tremendous accomplishment to conquer the addiction, vanquish the demons and stay clean for any length of time. But ten years is extraordinary. Congratulations, my friend.”

 

He shook Reid’s hand heartily and Grace’s as well, then stepped aside and allowed the other BAU members to descend upon Reid to extend their own acknowledgements of his accomplishment.

 

Garcia hugged him and suddenly could no longer hold back. The tears flowed and she stepped back and held him by his arms.

 

“Aw, Penelope, don’t cry.”

 

“I’m not,” she lied, “I’m just, it’s just, you’ve come so far, you’ve grown so much and to know that all that you have faced, all that you’ve had to overcome. Ten. Years.” She pulled him back into a bear hug, held him tight for a moment then relinquished him to his girlfriend.

 

Grace hugged him and offered her own congratulations, and confessed to her part in the conspiracy to have this surprise sprung on him. He forgave her the subterfuge and kissed her—quite thoroughly—much to her surprise and delight, in front of everybody.

 

Garcia snapped a few photos with her iPhone and decided to run to her office to print off a few copies. As she left the conference room, the elevator door opened and a man stepped out.

 

It was the man from the surveillance photo Rossi had asked her to identify.

 

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